Of rose and vanilla
by Nephilim Rising
Summary: Pre-CC oneshot with hints of BC events. Sephiroth has questions and Genesis seems to know the answer. Sephiroth/Genesis.


_Summary_: oneshot Seph/Gen.

_Disclaimer_: I own nothing or no one. Why would I need to, anyways?

_Pairings_: Sephiroth/Genesis

_A/N_: pre-CC oneshot, includes some hints of BC events. Has nothing to do with my other stories. I was recently told that by canon Sephiroth's hair smells of rose and vanilla (ok, I knew he loved his hair, but not to _this_ extend…^_^), then there's Gakt's song 'Vanilla', and then… I wanted to write something more or less lighthearted before continuing with 'Carmine' story :-)

* * *

_**Of Rose a**__**nd Vanilla. **_

His hair smelled of rose and vanilla.

Genesis would have laughed at anyone if they told him General's hair smelled like that. But it was before the redhead met Sephiroth, and first thing he felt when they were introduced was a faint scent that tickled his sharpened senses. It distracted him, clouded his thoughts and stirred others that deserved to be laughed at even more.

That thought was reflected in a smirk that played across Genesis' lips as he, leaning against the sterile white wall of Shin-Ra hall, watched Sephiroth disappear around the corner. General's haughtily straight back seemed to be forged from pure silver. And then there was a smell…

Rose and vanilla.

Genesis sighed, pushing the wall aside and unclenching his fists. The scent lingered in the air, teasing him, or, perhaps, it was just a beautiful and evanescent dream.

Nevertheless it haunted him.

Way too often for his liking.

Turning around on his low heels Genesis strode to the elevator. He wasn't paying much attention to where he was heading; he didn't need to. After spending so many years at Shin-Ra building he knew his way around by heart.

Elevator took Genesis to the level below, where the Company allotted him personal quarters. There, by an unremarkable door, one of many dark spots on the whiteness of walls, he ran into Angeal.

"Genesis, you look absent-minded," his dark-haired friend noticed at once. The redhead rarely bothered hiding his emotions. "Has something happened?"

Angeal always assumed more than he should. A shadow of vexation flitted across Genesis' face.

"Nothing." His voice flowed smoothly. "Do you know what's wrong with Sephiroth?"

Angeal shrugged.

"I haven't seen him for the last four days. He's been on the mission to the Junon cannon."

"I know that. He's just come back." Genesis waved aside, already rummaging for the card in his crimson leather coat. Finally he found it and let it slide through the slit. The door opened with a beep. "Are you coming in?"

Angeal nodded with a smile, accepting his invitation.

Genesis watched his friend's broad back as he disappeared in the apartment. When he met Sephiroth in the hallway just ten or so minutes ago, the silver-haired General barely greeted him and slipped by. Even though he wore his cold unflappable mask, the redhead could tell something has been bothering him. Somehow Genesis was able to sense it, just like that faint yet intoxicating rose and vanilla smell.

Crimson coat slid from slender shoulders and he carelessly threw it onto the sofa in his living room. For an instant Genesis was able to imagine Sephiroth lying on it, pale skin and silver tinged emerald eyes standing out against dark burgundy background.

But those were games of his imagination.

In the meanwhile Angeal made himself comfortable in one of his armchairs.

"Do you think we should try a new training technique or…"

Genesis wasn't listening, perching on the couch and stretching his legs, every movement of his body unconsciously graceful and agile as though being a permanent part of his nature. Sephiroth and all the contradictory thoughts and powerful emotions that always accompanied the name of the silver-haired General utterly gripped his attention.

Genesis strived for perfection.

Sephiroth was perfect.

* * *

"Congratulations, Sephiroth. Your performance was beyond excellent as always." The smile on the President's face was smug. "_'Avalanche'_ doesn't exist any more, or at least won't pose any considerable threat in the nearest future."

Alabaster face was kept dispassionate, none of the thoughts, which lurked behind the mask, reflected on his features. He learned it was a waste of time and a luxury he rarely permitted himself. Emotions were good for those young and idealistic; on the other hand he was so used to fight them it sometimes seemed as if he simply stopped feeling.

Silver head slowly bowed; the General disliked high-flown phrases. He did what he had to do, nothing more. There was only one person whose eloquence he welcomed, but his redheaded friend wasn't in this room at the moment.

Perhaps, Genesis would have found a better way to respond to the President's praise.

"Will that be all?" Deep voice displayed his complete indifference.

"Yes, General," he graciously gestured to the door. "I am still awaiting the reports from your mission to Condor."

Once again his response was a curt silent nod. They will not get more from him.

The metal door closed with a clanging behind him.

From the President's office Sephiroth headed to his room. He wanted to be left alone. To the President his mission to Junon was a complete and unquestionable success. In him it raised more questions than he had answers for, but doubt was always an unwelcome thing to display openly, even as short and fickle as his was.

Even despite his high rank and power, the matter of loyalty was always the most delicate, because even for him – for the hero, the General, the role model for young SOLDIERs and cadets – it was highly _inadvisable_ to think about certain matters.

Sometimes it made him feel as President's lapdog.

Sometimes it made him feel as though the whole SOLDIER department was just a weapon, like Junon cannon, which was supposed to fire when loaded.

That's why he preferred not to feel at all, especially after that war with Wutai.

Elevator stopped on his floor with a clang. Exchanging short greetings with Shin-Ra military stuff, Sephiroth made his way through the crowd of employees in white robes, which was easy. Throng parted to let him pass, his frame with broad shoulders, outlined by steel pauldrons, towering above everyone. His gait was slow and dignified, albeit otherworldly light at the same time. Sephiroth often felt eyes glued to his back, fear mixed with awe following on his heels. Yet the General was a patient person, his reserved movements or gestures rarely betrayed his true emotions. Perhaps, that is why he made it that far; perhaps, that is why it was still so much for him to do.

With a smirk on thin lips Sephiroth inserted the card and opened the door to his office. It waited for him just like he left it, everything neatly arranged in place. This way he always knew if someone endeavoured to break in while he was absent. This time he was pleasantly assured that none tried. The President was often tempted to use Turks to spy on high ranking members. He knew it.

He knew many things he was not supposed to.

The silver-haired General made his way to the tall window, overlooking Midgar. Pillars of smoke were rising through the foggy coverlet that concealed it from his perfect sight. Somehow he was glad it did. The city was ugly.

Despite the amounts of paperwork he obviously missed during his unexpected four days absence, Sephiroth couldn't make himself begin the routine job at once. It wasn't easy to forget that mission to Junon. It wasn't just the pile of rebel's bloodied maimed bodies on the floor of the room, it wasn't just the fighting or his strange meeting with the woman, who managed to parry his elaborate attack. All of it was secondary to the question she asked, her clear voice ringing with conviction and pride.

Sephiroth leaned on his black desk, emerald eyes absently fixed on the blurred contours of dull buildings below. He was seeing another scene.

"What are you fighting for?" The woman asked, her eyes burning through him as coals. Perhaps, she was mocking him, knowing something he did not.

He could feel her strange strength, strength that had nothing to do with physical abilities or even willpower he never lacked. Yet that strength was beyond him to possess. It was the strength of conviction that she was doing the _right_ thing.

The General disliked to be reminded of that question he asked himself but never truly found an answer to. She would die for her cause. He couldn't say the same thing about himself.

Pushing the desk aside, Sephiroth headed to the door.

Before he could begin his work he needed a spar to clear his head.

* * *

Genesis was surprised when the door to the training room flung open and Sephiroth walked through it. So clever ideas do come to brilliant heads simultaneously, the redhead thought with a touch of irony, a faint smirk visible on his lush lips.

Silver eyebrows arched.

"Genesis," the General was slightly amused. Same could be said about him. The redhead didn't expect anyone; he went to the room after a brief talk with Angeal. After he understood that his thoughts of the silver-haired General had taken an absolutely undesirable direction. And here – as ill luck had it – when he tried to run from his feeling as far as possible, the source of all his troubles showed up. Genesis found it ironic, but mostly a sign that, perhaps, it was time to take a first step in fulfilling his dreams.

After all, it was highly unlikely to expect anything from slightly slow on the uptake – when it came to personal matters – person the General always proved to be.

"Welcome, Sephiroth," he unsheathed his scarlet rapier and gestured to the centre of the room. Being honest with himself, Genesis didn't want to spar. It was an excuse, poor one at best, to be left alone with the General.

Sephiroth still looked preoccupied, absent-mindedly glancing at him and in turn baring Massamune.

"I would prefer a regular spar, one-to-one."

The redhead shrugged.

"Suits me fine."

Sephiroth fell upon him, swiftly, mercilessly, in a blur of blazing silver and bluish flames. Perhaps, his state somehow reflected his inner turmoil Genesis was eager to find out about, yet soon all he could think of was parrying the whizzing curve of General's Massamune and dodging his fatal blows. It didn't seem Sephiroth was in the mood of restraining himself today. Normally Genesis would have taken advantage of his friend's mood to engage in their competition, but his admiration of graceful movements of Sephiroth's slender body was way too pleasant at the moment. He knew with thoughts like these and attention diverted elsewhere he would not hold for long. The redhead pretended to defend himself, feigning a retreat to the wall and when cornered, just lowered his rapier as Massamune stopped half way in its bedazzling flight.

A sensual smile played across his lips when Sephiroth froze, mere inches away, looking at him intently, emerald eyes slightly narrowed, thin lips parted for breath.

"Genesis, what's wrong with you?" He asked with genuine concern.

Genesis dramatically rolled his eyes. How was it that today all his friends were overly concerned about his well-being?

"Nothing," he drawled in a carefree manner. "I was just going to ask the same question. You seem a little distracted."

A shadow ran over his beautiful marble face.

"I was on the mission to Junon." Sephiroth hung his head, Massamune flaccidly fell by his side. "Had to deal with the rebels."

"And so?" The redhead resisted an itch to reach out and run his fingers along refined curve of Sephiroth's neck.

For a moment he was silent, then abruptly tossed his head, speaking unlike Genesis has heard him speaking before.

Nothing of his cold mask remained.

"What are we fighting for, Genesis?" Emerald almond-shaped eyes neared, palms settled on both side of his neck as Sephiroth leaned over, demanding an answer.

Genesis drew in a deep breath. He expected everything but this sudden question that left him stunned, caged between General's palms, glued to the wall he reclined on. Inveigling curve of thin lips was so close he could feel Sephiroth's breath, feel warmth of his body and inhale strong enveloping rose and vanilla scent of scattered silver tresses.

So close, it would have taken him an unnoticeable effort only to lift his hand and touch smooth curves on General's chest.

Genesis closed his eyes. He couldn't speak. He couldn't move.

Free left hand slowly rose, bridging the gap between them inch by inch, but no sooner had redhead's palm settled on his thigh than the General was gone, silver-haired slender silhouette disappearing round the corner.

Genesis rested against the wall, unfamiliar limpness spreading in his body, rose and vanilla smell besotting, infatuating, enthralling, and leaving him breathless.

So close…

So much power.

* * *

It was dark outside when Genesis finally finished his duties and made his way to General's apartment; he wanted nothing more than to end this depreciatory stalking and thinking. He was used to getting what he wanted; and he wanted Sephiroth, but for all that not like a prized possession.

It was something more, so much more than alluring smell of his hair that attracted Genesis.

Perhaps, this way only he would show his friend what was at least worth fighting for.

Sephiroth was already getting ready to sleep when he knocked on the door.

"Did you want something, Genesis?"

The General wore his usual black pyjamas, and even that shapeless baggy clothes could not conceal his haughty frame. He stood aside to let the redhead pass.

"I might just know the answer you were looking for."

Burning gaze set against his back as the silver-haired General closed the door with a faint thud. Genesis headed to the living room, knowing that, intrigued, Sephiroth will follow. He was right.

It seemed the General has recently taken a shower; his waist-length silver hair, slightly wet, seemed covered in morning dew and faintly glistened in the faint light of his night lamp.

Genesis casually threw off his coat and when they aneared the couch turned around and without a second thought reached out and twined his arms around Sephiroth's neck.

If the General was surprised he never got the chance to express it, all words drowning in simultaneous movement of their joined bodies and lush lips enveloping lips of the latter.

His hair smelled of rose and vanilla, the scent more so strange because it belonged to the last person Genesis would suspect of using such fragrances. His lips tasted of flames and desire, warmth so contradictory to his always cold restrained nature. His embrace felt as enveloping engrossing canopy.

All Genesis wanted was leaning into his lover's slender body, aware of each strained curve, feeling as though they could melt into one.

As though the whole world belonged to them, just them.

He gently nipped at Sephiroth's bottom lip, ending their kiss, detaching.

"Do you understand now what is worth fighting for?" His whisper lacked the usual carelessness.

Fingers fondly passed over his neck, caressing, craving to continue the game he has begun, promising so much more.

"I see."

It was true Sephiroth who said those words; not the General who had to spill blood and make great sacrifices, but a person who hoped, believed and whose spark still gleamed underneath the cold mask, waiting to be accepted. Emerald eyes were thoughtful, cleansed of pain and sadness.

The realization had a more powerful impact on him than the intoxicating rose smell. Genesis clung to thin lips, with fervour unfelt and unexpressed before. His hand slid into loose black pants, feeling the response he was waking, eagerly urging to slip into the chasm of bliss, wringing sharp breathtaking moans with each subtle touch, which then sank in the heat of a tender yet demanding kiss.

So hot, so strained, so…

Genesis was exploring the part of Sephiroth he has never seen before.

It was better than in his boldest dreams, when their clothes slipped of as a superfluous separating layer, and Genesis found himself buried in utmost pleasure of touching and kissing his living reverie.

He hardly remembered, how they got to General's bedroom, fell onto white sheets, breathing heavily. How the world narrowed to the blissful shamelessness of being trapped under strong graceful body, of his insides screaming for release, drowning in molten silver, in ardour of General's rough smouldering kisses, inhaling sweet scent with every acute moan and breath.

It was almost unbelievable when it ended in a loud twofold cry.

Sephiroth's hand slipped down his damp back, settling on his thigh. The redhead gave in to that touch, drawing closer to feel warmth Sephiroth was unsparingly willing to share with him.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

Genesis blinked with pleasure.

"There was nothing to tell, Sephy…" He breathed into thin lips. "Until now."

Silver head trustfully rested on his shoulder, silver-emerald eyes with catlike pupils closing slowly.

"You were right. It is worth fighting for."

Genesis watched him falling asleep, burying his face in the flamboyant waterfall of scattered silver, inhaling this strange mixture of aromatic fragrances, so strong, so close now. Sephiroth was smiling in slumber.

He raised his hand, gently running his fingers through tangled tresses, the touch almost bashful.

Rose and vanilla…

What was more important than this fragile simplicity?


End file.
